


in my heart

by scarynoodles



Series: drafts [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, SHIELD Agent Tony Stark, Slow Build, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 05:51:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16382594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarynoodles/pseuds/scarynoodles
Summary: Tony Stark joined SHIELD to protect and help people, and he never lost sight of that goal. It isn't until a mission gone wrong in Afghanistan that his eyes are opened to the truth–that he's lost his humanity and become a machine.The missile should have killed him, but instead all it did was spark the flames in his heart.--A draft that I'm planning on finishing soon – there's only one missing scene from the first chapter





	in my heart

**Author's Note:**

> Zimmer is not an OC, Carol is.
> 
> Please note I have no idea how a business or workspace operates. If something seems off, that’s why.
> 
> Parts of the dialogue are taken from Iron Man (2008).
> 
> Sorry, there's no Stevetony yet. There's actually no Steve yet haha. But it will get to that point eventually.

The moment Tony steps foot on American soil, he starts working. 

It’s always been a problem of his, working until he physically can’t anymore, and sometimes pushing himself beyond that limit. It’s in his blood, he supposes, with his dad throwing himself into his company and search parties to the point of neglecting his own family, and his mother committing her entire life to charity and taking care of Tony. Hell, Aunt Peggy isn’t a blood relative and she was never able to start her own family because she was so busy with SHIELD all the time. And Jarvis, well, Jarvis lived to work, his father always joked.

It’s a habit that Natasha, Sharon, and Clint all hate, especially now, after.

After.

Well–just after.

They dislike the fact that he can’t seem to take a break. They don’t understand that he needs this, that this way he can drown out the violence and blood and fire in his mind. They think he needs time to get his head straight, to take a break and recover from the turmoil he had been put through. But that’s not how Tony works, not how his brain works. He  _ needs  _ to be doing something. He can’t just–relax.

Too bad SHIELD has given him an indefinite leave of absence, because the psychologists are convinced he has some form of PTSD.

They’re probably not all that wrong, Tony thinks in the dark of night, when everything is quiet and peaceful except for the screaming in his head.

Even Obie has been pestering him to stop, more than he already did. Tony supposes he feels guilt for the fact that it was his weapons that put Tony in danger, because it was Stark Industries weapons the Ten Rings were using, weapons that had somehow been sold on the black market and used against the very people they were supposed to protect.

And that’s why Tony can’t stop working, because it’s his fault those weapons are killing innocent people. He may not have built the weapons, or sold them, but he was the one involved in their planning and design (not that anyone knows), and it’s his name on the sides of the weapons, it’s his name that is the last thing people see before they die (the last thing he saw before waking up in that cave and everything was Different), and maybe this could have all been avoided if he had taken charge of his company like he was supposed to. So. His fault.

He doesn’t even think about everything else that happened, the horrors he saw, that poor little girl oh god will someone save her–

The one plus side to people letting him do what he wants is that he has all the time in the world to focus on his own, personal project. One he can use to help humanity. He’s always been fascinated with the medieval concepts of knights and honor and chivalry; the idea of anonymously pledging oneself to protect their kingdom and their king; wearing a suit of armor to guard their vulnerable heart. It wasn’t until Afghanistan that the idea really cemented in his mind, because first of all, who would call Tony Stark–the man who abandoned his company and let it grow corrupt and murder innocents under the guise of protecting the world, who spent a lifetime of putting on masks and becoming part of an organization that rarely took accountability for its actions and would let innocent people die to gain information–a noble hero? It doesn’t matter if no one actually knows it’s Tony’s fault, or even that he’s still alive; those terms are more easily applied to the likes of Captain America anyway.

But now he has a purpose, and that purpose is to protect the world and guide it to a better future, like a knight in shining armor.

Maybe.

Tony bursts into Obie’s office, in time for the meeting he had scheduled. Obie, who had been expecting a Tobias Steele, blinks in surprise. “Tony? What are you doing here, my boy?”

“I’m here to take a job in Stark Industries,” Tony says, unceremoniously sitting down on the desk next to Obie’s chessboard. “It’s for a mission.”

“I thought you weren’t cleared for missions yet.”

He’s right, but Tony’s not going to say that. “I was just this morning,” he lies. “I know you won’t listen to me about stopping weapons production, but I’m not going to let you continue selling on the black market.”

Obie looks at him blankly. “What black market?”

“Well, I don’t mean you specifically,” Tony says, realizing his mistake. “But you know the terrorist cell I was investigating? Turns out they have weapons from SI. There’s someone in this company who’s selling weapons illegally, and I’m going to put a stop to it.”

Obie stands up from his desk chair, heads over to a small table with a bottle of whiskey, and pours out the alcohol into a glass. Tony wishes he would offer him some. He’s been starving for three months. “Are you sure about this, my boy? It’s only been a week since you were found, your mind needs time to recover. Think about this more clearly–”

“I’ve had over three months to think about this, and the entire time, innocent people were dying, Obie. I won’t take no for an answer.” At Obie’s doubtful look, Tony sighs. “Look, if nothing else, think about your reputation. Imagine what would happen if this gets out.”

Obie takes a sip of his whiskey, and then stands there, considering. Eventually, he moves over to stand next to Tony, picking up a white pawn piece and studying its intricacies, and says, “I don’t like it, Tony, but I’ll let you go undercover.”

Tony grins, big and wide. He thinks it’s probably the first time he’s smiled in months. “Thanks, Obie. You won’t regret this.” He slides off the desk, hesitates for a moment, then hugs Obie before exiting the office.

A little ways down the hall, he walks into a ridiculously tall redhead with even more ridiculous heels coming around the corner. The papers she was carrying spill everywhere.

“Oh, jeez!” she exclaims, flinching wildly. Tony takes a step back, just in case. She stares at Tony in shock, then her eyes stray behind him. “What–what are you doing here? I have–I have pepper spray and I’m not afraid to use it!”

“I’m gonna to have to discourage you from that,” Tony says easily, leaning down to gather the scattered papers. “I was meeting Mr. Stane for a job interview.”

“Oh, so you’re Tobias Steele?” Her eyes widen. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was lying about the pepper spray. I wouldn’t have actually sprayed you even if I had some. Uh, please don’t tell Mr. Stane. I don’t want–never mind. Just don’t tell him.”

Tony shrugs and hands her the papers, reading her all the while. There’s an air of skittishness around her, which is strange. Everything he’s heard about Virginia Potts has described her as confident and put together, and he can understand why. Most people would look at her professional ponytail and immaculate makeup and stop paying attention. 

But Tony’s not most people, and he can see the perfectly applied foundation is the wrong shade for her, trying and failing to hide an unnatural paleness and bring color to her skin. Similarly, her concealer is attempting to hide the bags under her eyes–not that Tony can actually see them, but he has experience and can make an educated guess. There are flyaways in her hair and closer inspection reveals that it has barely been brushed through.

She’s at her breaking point, and trying to hide it.

“It’s fine, Pepper,” he says, watching her carefully.

“It’s Virginia,” she says stiffly.

Tony knows that, of course. Everyone knows Obie’s PA slash secretary. He pretends to consider. “Okay. Virginia.”

“Thank you.” Virginia gestures to behind Tony, and hugs her papers closer to her chest. She smiles awkwardly, sheepishly. “I...I should probably go. I can’t keep Mr. Stane waiting.”

“Bye, Pepper,” Tony says, just to tease her. She blushes furiously at that and rushes past him. Tony waits a second, then turns, just in time to see her enter Obie’s office, hiding any sign of insecurity with her head held up high. Almost subconsciously, he logs her existence in his head, any signs or hints of what could be going on with her. He has several ideas, none of them good, but he’ll need to get more evidence to confirm anything first.

He supposes he has more work to do than he thought.

* * *

JARVIS is a work of beauty, of art, Tony’s personal project and his masterpiece, more than even the arc reactor. He’d spent many sleepless nights working on the coding, making sure the baby AI had the space to grow and learn once he went online, not unlike a regular human child. He’s also something that Tony has hidden from SHIELD, fearful they would seize the AI and use him for their own gain, especially when he’s still young and easily influenced. Tony might work for the organization, but that doesn’t mean he has to trust everyone in it.

Tony walks into his apartment, trailing his hand along the wall, but stays silent, waiting to see if JARVIS will turn on the lights on his own accord or if he will need a little bit more prompting. That’s something they’ve been working on, JARVIS trying to read cues to decide things on his own. Of course, the majority of the time Tony will tell him what to do but there are still some things Tony hopes JARVIS can make his own decisions about. It’s probably been the hardest thing for him, because JARVIS’ base code is to help Tony and therefore that somehow translates into “obey his orders,” no matter how uncomfortable that makes Tony feel.

He stands there for a minute, waiting, but decides today is not the day. “JARVIS, lights.”

The lights immediately flicker on. “I apologize, Sir,” says JARVIS. “I know you have said before that I can do things on my own, but I still do not...think I can do that.”

“It’s fine, J. We just have to work on it a bit more, yeah?”

JARVIS might have developed a bit faster had Tony not been taken. That’s one of his biggest regrets. That for three months, he was unable to contact JARVIS, to help him grow and learn. He had essentially abandoned him while he was vulnerable and young. Sure, JARVIS knew what had happened because Rhodey told him, but it didn’t make the guilt any less.

“Yes,” JARVIS agrees eagerly.

“Good,” Tony says, smiling up at the nearest camera. “Do you want to practice right now or later?”

“Later, if that is alright.”

“Of course. I asked you, kid,” Tony says, chuckling slightly. He can’t remember the last time he laughed.

There is a pause. “...How am I a kid?”

“Technically you’re still a baby since you’re only five months old, but with more knowledge than most adults. Plus, you’re still learning.” Tony stutters for a second, then says, “I mean, obviously you’re not a kid, but I think of you as one.”

“What is it like to have a body?” JARVIS asks suddenly.

“Uh…” Tony blinks, surprised by the question. He’s never really thought about it. He doesn’t think anyone has, to be honest. Never been the opportunity to describe it before. “It’s a lot harder than you would think,” he says honestly. “You have to take care of it, after all. Make sure you eat, sleep, clean yourself. You have that easier, but then there are all the people who think computers are incapable of feeling emotions, of love. So.” He shrugs. “Maybe you’re not that better off.”

JARVIS is silent. Then he asks, sounding so much like the child Tony thinks he is, “Am I capable of love?”

“Sure,” Tony says easily, because he genuinely believes it. “Like I said, lots of people would disagree, but don’t you dare listen to them. Maybe you don’t feel it the same way we do, but that doesn’t mean you can’t love. Love, it’s...it’s not just a feeling, it’s a thing you do.”

“How do you do...love?” 

“Just,” Tony thinks wildly for a second; they’ve gotten way offtrack. “Show you care. Anything. Making someone a meal, giving them a gift, taking care of them when they’re sick or hurt. If they’re upset, listen to them.”

“Do I do that?”   
  
“Do you think you do?” Tony counters, urging JARVIS to think for himself.   
  
“I...take care of you,” JARVIS says slowly. “I turn on the coffee machine for you. When you are upset, I try to calm you down and talk to you.”   
  
Tony smiles softly. “Does that sound like love?”   
  
“I believe so.”   
  
“Then it is.” Tony heads to his living room slash workshop, because the apartment he lives in is tiny and pretty much consists of one room, save for the bedroom and bathroom. No one ever comes to visit except for Rhodey, Clint, Sharon, and Nat, who don’t care what it looks like so Tony doesn’t either, especially since he barely spends time in it anyway. 

Obie did offer to let Tony have part of his fortune, and Tony had considered it, but ultimately refused because there was no way to explain where the money was going. Plus, he wants to be independent. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone else in SHIELD if he got by using money he wasn’t even working for. For the most part, anyway. He’s the one behind several of SI’s major technological advances.

So this is all he can afford on a SHIELD salary, which isn’t much. Tony did work as a mechanic at a local auto shop when he had the time, but he doesn’t have the job anymore since he took an unplanned vacation for three months. 

“JARVIS, remind me to look for any open positions,” he starts, and then trails off. He’s working at Stark Industries weapons development–sector sixteen–now. He has no idea whether Obie will actually pay him, but if he wants to keep up the ruse there will have to be some sort of salary on the record, so he might as well give the actual money. Besides, the head of R&D will be in charge of him, not Obie. “Actually, J, scratch that.”

He goes into his bedroom to grab his laptop from his bed, and then sits down at the worktable. “Alright, pull up Mark II.”

The program turns on, and Tony studies the specs. He hasn’t gotten to the production part of the suit because he lacks the materials. The collection he’s developed over the years is meager in comparison to what he needs for this particular project, and it’ll probably take months, or possibly even years to finish it. Usually he uses SHIELD’s resources, but Tony would rather keep this particular thing completely out of their knowledge.

Maybe he can swipe some materials from SI. Obie would probably kill him if he ever found out, but Tony is good at being discrete. Well, most of the time.

Sometimes he ends up as a prisoner for three months.

Tony can’t find anything to improve at this particular point in time, and shuts down the laptop like he did yesterday. He sighs and looks around his “workshop.” He started a boot just to test it out, but he can’t produce the repulsor technology needed to make it fly with what he has. Well, he probably could, but using scraps is not going to cut it this time. 

Tony...has nothing to do. Usually, he’s distracted with missions–but he doesn’t have to show up at SI until tomorrow morning–or by tinkering–but all he  _ wants  _ to tinker with is the suit. This is the not the first time this has happened since he came back from Afghanistan, and usually Tony spends his time lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, or teaching JARVIS something. He supposes he can get started with the lesson now, but he doesn’t feel like it.

What did he do in Afghanistan when he had downtime? He would usually talk with–Yinsen, but he’s dead, he’s dead because of Tony and because he was too impulsive to sit still and stick to the plan. Tony misses him so much, as much as he misses his mom and dad.

“Sir, are you alright?”

Tony blinks, and a tear falls down his cheek.  _ Oh _ . He didn’t even realize he was crying. “I’m fine, J. Just...thinking about someone.”   
  
“Who?” JARVIS asks.

Tony doesn’t answer. Instead his eyes trail to the coffee table, where he has an unopened box. It was an impulsive buy, something he just saw at a store and needed to get because of the memories it brought to him, the same way he automatically makes tea now when he needs to think or is troubled. “JARVIS, how do you feel about backgammon?”

* * *

“So, Stane just...hired you?” Abe Zimmer, the head of R&D asks.

Tony stares at him innocently. “Yes.”

He lets out a whistle. “You must be something to have impressed him that much.”

“I didn’t think I was going to get the job,” Tony admits honestly. He really thought for a moment that Obie wouldn’t agree, because Obie never listens to him.

“Well, I did get the notice that I had a new employee, which is a good thing, because otherwise we would have had a problem.”

Tony forces a smile. “Yeah.” He’s not worried if they get suspicious and look into him. Toby Steele has a solid (falsified) background, as does every other field agent at SHIELD. 

Zimmer nods, and gestures for Tony to follow him. “So you can consider today as sort of an orientation, alright?” They begin walking through the research department as Zimmer points out all the important features. “Our R&D department is split into all the various fields we have. Weapons development, biotechnology, medicine, all of that. What specific department are you part of again?”

“Weapons.” Tony pretends to look curious as he glances around the hall, looking through the glass walls into the labs. 

“Well, that’s weapons right there.” Zimmer points at the largest lab they have.

It’s only years of training to keep a neutral expression that prevents Tony from making a face the moment he sees it. Seeing how much of the company’s resources are spent on warmongering, it disgusts him. He loves Obie, he really does, but the man has always had a vicious streak in him that Tony found difficult to temper because he was separated from the company and therefore had no power or rights within it, and, technically, deceased.

It must be hypocritical of him because it was only a few months ago that Tony was working on the schematics for the Jericho. It was also only a few months ago that Tony thought he was doing the right thing following SHIELD blindly.

They enter the lab, and Zimmer turns to Tony. “I’m assuming you’ve already signed your contract, correct? Because what’s in here is meant to be kept a secret until it’s ready to be revealed to the public.”

Tony nods.

“We’re currently working on the Jericho missile, which will utilize new repulsor technology Mr. Stane has told us about. Think of it as sort of...harnessed light particles that can be used propel mass. I doubt you’ve heard of it. We’re trying to keep it secret.”

He’s wrong; Tony knows it intimately.

It’s death and destruction, every black part of his nonexistent heart crafted into one form, springing up onto the blueprints the same way Athena sprang from Zeus’ head. It represents the worst parts of Tony, the reason why he lost his soul to the devil and the seven circles of hell long ago.

He wonders what had happened to him, why he ever thought it was okay to support war, to support a shady spy organization.

“I haven’t,” he says, because he can’t say the truth. “Heard of it, I mean.”

Not too long before leaving for Afghanistan, he told Obie about a new technology–the repulsor tech–he’d invented that he was planning on adapting into the missile. That had never happened, obviously, so Obie had clearly done the next best thing and had his scientists work on it instead.

“That’s fine,” Zimmer says, grinning. “Someone else should explain it to you. Well, Mr. Steele, do you have any other questions or is that all?”

“Call me Toby,” Tony says. “Or Tobias, if you really must.”

“Toby, huh? You know, you remind me of someone I used to know. But he’s gone now.”

Tony stiffens slightly. He knew Zimmer from before his parents died. Not closely, but enough to be acquainted with each other. But that was years ago, and Tony looks much older now and has a beard–not to mention his awful bleach-blonde hair for this exact reason–so surely Zimmer won’t make the connection? “I hope they’re good memories,” he says lightly, “and no, I think I’ll be fine for now.”

Zimmer smiles again and claps a hand on Tony’s back. “Well, Toby, I’ll leave you to it. Carol,” he calls out to a brunette woman, “can you explain everything else to our new employee?”

Carol turns from where she’s messing with a hologram. “Ooh, fresh meat.”

Zimmer sighs. “Don’t–don’t say that. We’re scientists, not cannibals.”

“Eh, same thing, really.” Tony would like to know her reasoning for that. He would really, really like to know.

Zimmer rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite,” he says to Tony. “No matter what she implies or says.”

“Duly noted.” He smiles at Carol when she approaches and offers his hand. She shakes it, a corner of her mouth lifting up.

“So, what do I call you?”

“Toby.” Tony glances beside him, and realizes Zimmer has left. “Toby Steele.”

“Alright, well, I’m sure Abe already told you about the Jericho?” Without waiting for Tony’s response, she continues, “We’re stuck on the repulsor tech that Mr. Stane dreamed up from somewhere. It’s kind of inspired by the energy in the arc reactor, but without the whole...nuclear reactor part of it...Like rocket fuel, but cleaner energy. Except the arc reactor technically doesn’t work beyond looking cool and powering big things, so.” She shrugs. “Here we are. We do have to get this done soon, though. Mr. Stane’s given us an ultimatum of two weeks. So no pressure,” she says with a bright smile. 

Tony knows how to do that–once they figure out they need muons, it becomes a simple process–but his job here is to find out and stop whoever’s selling dangerous weapons illegally, not make it easier for them. It’s basically a lost cause convincing Obie to straight up shut down weapons production, but perhaps he can stop the corruption behind it.

He’s not going to be complicit in any more death.

“I have a few ideas,” he says, “but I don’t know if they will work.” They won’t, they were all his failed methods in producing the repulsor tech.

“Well, any idea is a good idea,” Carol says cheerfully. “Even if they don’t work out, at least we’ll know what  _ not  _ to do next time.”

Which is the make of a good scientist. 

For the next few hours he works with Carol, going over his failed attempts and pretending to get more and more frustrated as time goes on.

He instinctively looks up as the doors open close to his lunch break, and Rhodey walks in. Rhodey stops, blinks when he notices Tony, and opens his mouth. “To–”

“Oh, hey, Jim,” Tony says awkwardly, cutting Rhodey off. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Carol looks between the two of them. “Toby, you know him?”

Rhodey picks up very quickly that Tony’s undercover, and nods. “Yeah, we met a while back at MIT. I came here to get...Toby, actually. Can we talk?”

Tony knows that’s not why he came, but he shrugs and smiles. “Sure.” He wipes his hands, nods at Carol, and then follows Rhodey out of the lab.

Rhodey immediately turns on Tony once they’re away from any prying ears. “Tony, what the hell are you doing here undercover?”

Tony holds his hands up in surrender. “Honeybear, listen, I know what you’re going to say–”   
  
“No, Tony, none of that shit. What are you doing here? Does Obadiah know?”   
  
“He does, actually, he’s the one that hired me.”   
  
Rhodey splutters. “ _ Hired  _ you–what the hell was  _ he  _ thinking? You just came back from Afghanistan a week ago! There’s no way SHIELD cleared you for missions already–”   
  
“They didn’t, but that’s not the point.” Tony continues before Rhodey can get started, crossing his arms defensively, “Rhodey, people are dying. What I saw out there, it was eye-opening. I infiltrated the terrorist cell for only three days before they caught me, but those three days were the worst of my life. I saw them attack a village, Rhodey, they killed women and  _ children _ . Everyone died, except for those who helped them.” He thinks about the Battle of Jericho, and about how only hours later the terrorists would be asking–no, demanding he build the Jericho missile. He wonders what would have happened had the terrorists already gotten hold of it, and the image that appears in his head is horrifying. It doesn’t matter, though, does it, because they all died anyway because he couldn’t and didn’t do enough. 

Tony lowers his head, and when he raises it again his eyes are shiny with unshed tears. He can see that Rhodey is struck silent. “I joined SHIELD to protect people, but that was the first time I wondered what I was doing with them. If I just stand there and watch, pretend to be one of those terrorists, be the last thing people see before they’re murdered, then I’m just as complicit as the actual murderers. A little girl died begging for me to save her, and all I could do was stand there and watch.

“But–but that’s not all, they had Stark Industries weapons. There’s someone in this company who’s selling weapons illegally and I need to stop them, Rhodey. I  _ have  _ to. Every night, I see that little girl’s face in my nigh–dreams. I need to make it up to her, even if I know there’s no actual way to fix what happened. And I’m doing this my own way, one that won’t cause innocent people to die under the guise of helping others. Nothing you can say will change my mind.”   
Rhodey is quiet. His dark eyes are soft and warm with concern. “Tony, is this...the first time you’ve opened up to someone about this?”   
  
“I’ve talked to psychologists, if that’s what you mean,” Tony says, deflecting rather than admitting yes.

The look Rhodey gives him clearly says that he knows what Tony’s doing, but apparently he chooses not to push the issue right now.

Instead, Rhodey looks around, making sure there’s no one listening in. “Are you  _ sure  _ about them being SI weapons, Tony? Maybe they’re knockoffs.”

“Yes.” Tony’s gaze is steel–or iron. “I recognize my own work.”

Rhodey looks down. There’s a slight, sickly tinge to his face. “God, I’m the military and weapons liaison for SI. This shouldn’t have been happening under my nose.” He glances back up at Tony. “Do you have any idea who it could be?”

Tony checks his watch, sees that it’s noon, and decides to start his lunch break now. “Wanna go for lunch?” he asks. 

Rhodey rolls his eyes, but nods all the same. As they make their way to the cafeteria, Tony speaks, lowly, “Well, there’s likely more than one person behind it, I guarantee. Probably someone higher up, able to hide the evidence. Wouldn’t be surprised if there’s someone on the board. I...I…” he pauses, wondering if he should admit this.

He’d given Virginia a lot of thought last night, and had come to a few conclusions about her behavior. One, she’s in a bad relationship, in which case Tony will have to help her. There’s no way he’s dooming her to that. The only thing is, Tony can’t find any information on her being in a relationship for the past ten years, since she was first hired at SI. She tries to keep her life private, sure, but there’s always trails. But she just–doesn’t seem to have any sort of personal life. Her job shouldn’t be so hard that she has no time to cultivate her own life, should it?

Two, she knows something about the illegal weapons and is feeling guilt or second thoughts. She doesn’t necessarily have to be the mastermind, but she knows something, whether it was completely by her own choice or because she was coerced.

Or three, she’s just like that in general. It doesn’t make sense though, considering what Tony’s heard about her over the years.

“I think that Virginia Potts, Obie’s PA, might know something about the dealing.”

Rhodey stops in his tracks. “What,  _ her _ ? No, there’s no way. I know her. She wouldn’t do that.”

“Hold on, Jim, I didn’t say she was behind it, just that she might know something. I ran into her yesterday, literally. She seemed...guilty, skittish. Like she was hiding something bad. It could be something else entirely, or she could have information.”

So far, she’s Tony’s best bet at getting a lead. The biggest problem will be talking to her, never mind getting her to open up. But she’s loyal to Obie, he thinks, so if he plays it up as though it’s something that will harm Obie, she may tell Tony what she knows.

Tony feels sick and dirty immediately after he comes up with that idea, the same way he felt during the Ten Rings’ siege on that village. Manipulation? He’s trying to avoid SHIELD tactics besides the obvious espionage.

Even when he’s trying to be a better person, it seems as though he’ll always fall back into bad habits and use others, and a shard of cold, icy self-loathing lodges itself deep in his heart.

No, there has to be a better way.

“Alright, fine,” Rhodey says. “I trust you, Tones.” They both grab trays upon entering the cafeteria and collect food from the various stations. When sitting down to eat, Rhodey says, “How did they find out, anyway?”

Tony picks at his salad. The moment SHIELD freed him from their clutches, he went out and bought two cheeseburgers, ate them within ten minutes, and threw up because his stomach wasn’t used to that amount of richness and food. He’s been trying to take it light since. “What?”

“How did they find out you were a spy? You’re good, Tony, too good to be caught just like that.”

Tony smiles down at his lap at the compliment. “Fury’s been investigating for a leak in SHIELD or something, just in case. But we mostly think that they were just suspicious of me and they saw me trying to help that woman.”   
  
“Wait, what?”   
  
Tony sighs. He’d gotten a lot of shit about that from practically everyone he knew, because it was more than likely that that was the reason he’d been captured. “I couldn’t just stand there, Jim. It was reckless, and impulsive, I know, but I tried to save just one person, while I was sure they couldn’t see. So while I was helping her…” He shrugs. “A missile landed at my feet and blew up.” His eyes grow dark. “I don’t know what happened to her.”

Rhodey looks at him in disbelief. “You’re right, that is impulsive. You’ve never been like that before.”

“I wasn’t a  _ person  _ before,” Tony counters. “I felt nothing, followed SHIELD blindly, became a literal machine. And whatever that... _ thing  _ was, it wasn’t me. I can’t let that happen again.” He always wondered if he had a heart, if there was special place in one of the circles of Hell for him, back Before. Now he knows he doesn’t have one. 

But he wonders what it says that he’s trying anyway. He can say with certainty, right now, that he’s still as emotionally constipated as ever, that he’s not suddenly able to open up without the fear of being rejected, but he wants to show that he cares–and maybe, be proven wrong. That there is a heart somewhere.

“So, what, you’re a humanitarian now, or something?” Rhodey asks, not unkindly.

Tony shakes his head gently. “I just don’t want to stand for an organization that kills people in the name of protection.” He doesn’t specify which one he’s talking about. “I’m working on something big. I want you to be a part of it.”

“No, no,” Rhodey says. “I can’t. The less I know, the better.”

And that, right there, is another example of why Tony is still incapable of opening up. He understands, of course, but the rejection stings. He forces a smile, using every bit of his ability to pull on a mask, and nods.

**Author's Note:**

> It ends seemingly abruptly, but there is one last scene after this I haven't written yet. So unlike the majority of my other drafts (most of which I will never complete or post) this is pretty much all of chapter one. I'm planning for this to be my next project along with possible two other fics, depending on my inspiration for them.
> 
> I'm definitely going to be working on this, I just need to outline everything before going ahead because this is a bit more complex than Bestowal. Once I do add to this, I'm just going to update this work rather than reposting it.
> 
> About the overt Christianity references – I’m well aware that Tony is an atheist, and I’m Muslim, so it’s not as though I’m forcing my religion on anyone, but Tony has some...hardcore religious themes going on in the comics and the first Iron Man, which is why that’s there. One of my favorite Tony moments, in all of Iron Man canon, comics or movies or TV shows, is during the first Civil War, where he outright prays. 
> 
> You're mostly going to see influence from the comics and the first Iron Man in terms of his characterization, by the way – probably Civil War and Infinity War too once I get to those points.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at scaryy-noodles :^)


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